Leather Pants
by Xela
Summary: A delightfully insightful, purely hilarious guide to exactly what happens on the other side of Boris the Bewildered... in English, a pair of drunk Ravenclaws, and the Weasley twins on a pranking high...


 "Honestly... it's third year work... how could I get this wrong?  It was **Pierre Bonaccord wanted to stop troll hunting, and give the trolls rights!  I studied it so hard... argh..."**

Mandy Brocklehurst was, once again, sitting in the Ravenclaw Common Room because, once again, she just _knew she had failed an important OWLs Examination.  And, once again, she was totally drunk._

She had moved on from Butterbeer, to Vladmir's Vulgar Vodka, and finally, five bottles later, on to Odgeskin's Firewhisky.  Mandy, in her short, innocent and previously pain-free life, had never had reason to move on to the Firewhisky, although it was hidden in the _Common Room Drinking Cabinet for Emergencies _for... well, emergencies, really. 

"Bottoms up." Taking a deep swig from the bottle, she swallowed and immediately beginning coughing, spluttering and shaking her head violently.

_Fuck! That burnt terribly. Pain was **not her friend, and she didn't intend to befriend it anytime soon, either.**_

"I forgot to tell you, caution is advised for first time drinkers- it's very strong stuff."

Turning around quickly, and clutching her head as the speed of the movement rattled her brains from one side of her head to the other- the world was spinning.  Glaring up at the girl standing before her, Mandy shifted five empty alcohol bottles and shot glasses on to the floor to make room.  Smiling- too cheerfully in Mandy's drunken opinion- Sally-Anne Perks sat down cross-legged on the lounge.

"How dare you be so... perky..." The skyrocketing level of alcohol had done nothing to calm Mandy's temperament- _that_ was for sure.

Sally-Anne looked unruffled.  "What crawled up your butt and died?  Besides, I thought you promised never to get drunk again, after what happened last time..."

**"WILL YOU SHUT UP ABOUT THE BLOODY PANTS THING?"**

Sally-Anne continued smiling, but wisely didn't laugh.  "What's the matter?  What could possibly have prompted you to go through-" She glanced quickly at the alcohol bottles, "**five whole bottles of alcohol, and a shot of Odgeskin's?"**

Mandy sighed, pouring herself another shot of Firewhisky. 

"You know... the question ten... in Binny-Binn's exam..." Giggling slightly, she tipped her head, and gulped the shot.

"That's it!" Grabbing the glass, Sally-Anne set it down on the floor.  Continuing as if there had been no interruption, she asked, "Question ten?Describe the circumstances that led to the formation of the international confederation of wizards and explain why the warlocks of Liechtenstein refused to join?"

"Stuuuuuupid freaking phogrotaphic memorrrrryyy..." Mandy's words were beginning to slur.

"What about question ten?"

Bending down and snatching the shot glass back from the floor, Mandy poured herself another shot.  Gulping it down before Sally-Anne could rip it off her, and wincing at the pain, she wheezed out her answer: "Y'know Bonaccord?  The dude against troll banging?  Anywayyyyyy... y'know his first name?"

Frowning in thought, Sally-Anne closed her eyes.

 "Petre, wasn't it?  It was in the notes that Terry lent us, when we were away, wasn't it?"

"It was Pierrrrrrrrreeeeeee..."

"WHAT?!"

"Pierrrrrrrrrrrrrrreeeeeee..." Rolling her 'r' in a French and highly drunken manner, Mandy giggled again.  And braced herself.

"I'M GONNA KILL HIM! TERRY BOOT! ARGHHHHH!  THAT... DASYPYGAL, EXCEREBROSE, LABROSE, MEPHITIC, PAPULIFEROUS, APOGENOUS ARSEHOLE!  I'M GONNA KILL HIM!"

Mandy sat unflinchingly, throughout the majority of this outburst, and began to move only when Sally-Anne had pounded her fist into one of the fluffy blue cushions on the lounge, and aimed a wild kick at the empty bottles.  A few shards of glass flew towards the fireplace, and Mandy leant forward to grasp the Odgeskin's bottle.

"In English, if you pleasssssseeeeeee."

"IT WAS ENGLISH!"

"Modern English, then."

"Ah…" Sally-Anne seemed to have calmed down a little bit, but the anger of a provoked Ravenclaw redhead was notoriously precarious.  

"Basically, I suppose it means... a hairy-buttocked, brainless, thick-lipped, stinking, pimply, impotent arsehole..."

"And if he's not impotent now, he will be by the time I'm through with him."  Mandy seemed to be recovering rather quickly from the alcohol, and, as if to remedy this, slurped the shot from the glass and immediately poured another.

"By the time _we're_ through with him."

"By the time we're through with him."

"_Damn straight."_

Mandy held out the shot.

"Drink.  It fixes everything."

Sally-Anne smiled a dangerous smile.

"I bet that's what Terry thinks.  But _he's going to need Pomphrey."_

"Damn straiggghhhtttt..."

 Sally-Anne gave up on the shot glass, and snatched the bottle from Mandy's hands.  Then she gulped.  And gulped.

"You remember what happened last time we got this drunkkkkkkkk?"

"Gods, if you're still going on about those pants, I honestly didn't know they were leather! Under the fluoresssssscent lights..." Mandy hiccuped.  

"...and I was thinking stink pellets in his nightly whisky and dung bombs in his trunk... but the only problem is we've done that all before..."****

Fred sighed, in a very un-Fredish manner. 

"I know what you mean.  It's just not _fun when you do the same thing all the time... even though the reactions are always amusing..."_

The twins shared a twin evil grin.

"We need new ideas," Lee broke in, "Something different... something we've never tried before, and something that would provoke Snape..."

The trio paced quickly down the corridor, while Fred pulled bits and bobs out of his pocket.

"Ah! Here it is!"

The Marauder's Map, used to the sound of Fred's voice, unfolded and revealed itself without the password or the wand tap.  Leaning on the statue of Boris the Bewildered, with the map in his hands, Fred sighed contentedly, before smirking as a thought entered his mind.

"What about... Snape in leather pants?"

The sentence had barely left his lips, as he felt the statue shift behind him, and spin.  Fred was dropped unceremoniously on his bottom as he fell through thin air, on to the carpeted floor.  The floor of a Common Room.  A Common Room that incidentally, just so happened to be... the Ravenclaw Common Room.

"Bloody brilliant!"

"We're in the Ravenclaw Common Room!"

"Ouch."

Lee and George helped Fred to his feet, before turning to face the room.  It was blue, with portraits and landscape paintings covering the walls.  Comfortable striped sofas and rocking chairs were set randomly around the room, and, overall, it looked pretty much like the Gryffindor Common Room.

There were, however, a few differences.

The Gryffindors, being all chivalrous and brave and heroic, and, subsequently, idiotic, had never thought to modify their Common Room with magic.  The Ravenclaws, however, had taken full advantage of what they had learned in their classes.  Pool tables and pinball machines were set up along the wall opposite the fireplace, and a small, self-service kitchen was carved out of solid brick along the wall facing the entrance.

And a mini-bar.

Naturally.

And there were also two girls in the room, the three teenage boys _didn't_ fail to notice.  Two very pretty girls.  Two very pretty Ravenclaw girls.  And by the looks of things (and by the smell of things), two very pretty, very **drunk **Ravenclaw girls.

Approaching them, the trio distinctly heard the shorter girl say in a rather slurred voice, "Gods, if you're still going on about those pants, I honestly didn't know they were leather! Under the fluoresssssscent lights..."

Fred, Lee and George took this opportunity to glance at each other, and, combining the spoken sentence with the password (Fred presumed that 'Snape in leather pants' was the key that moved the statue), presumed to understand what the girls were discussing.

  
And burst into hysterical laughter.

"Well," Lee giggled, "It was a great idea..." He stopped for a moment, his chuckles taking sense from his words.  He controlled himself quickly, however.

"It was a great idea, Fred, but it seems to already have been thought of."

"By _girls_." George snickered.

"Reckon we should offer them a deal? An influential position in the shop?"

The trio snickered to themselves, as the girls stared at them.

"Oh! That's right! We haven't introduced ourselves!" Fred bounced over to the lounge, where he removed a bowler hat (much like Minister Fudge's), which had appeared from nowhere, from his head, and bowed exaggeratedly.  George followed suit, only his bowler was a lurid pink while Fred's was a lime green.  Lee, however, was still giggling.

"The name's Weasley.  Fred Weasley," Fred said, smiling what he clearly thought was a charming smile.  Whether it _was or not, though, is debatable, because moments after Sally-Anne disappeared behind the couch holding the wine cooler.  Gagging sounds could be heard._

Perhaps it was the alcohol.

"Did you really send Snape a pair of leather pants?" The respect in Fred's voice was tangible.

"Yes, believe it or not.  We were absolutely sssss_smassssshed_ at the time, though.  Much like we are now, as a matter of fact..." Sally-Anne's voice floated from below, through breaks in nausea.

"Oh, Gods! Now the Gryffindors'll all know! It'll be all over the school by eight o'clock tomorrow morning!"  Mandy buried her face in her hands.

Sally-Anne, who, by now, had finished vomiting, appeared from behind the couch and wiped her mouth with her sleeve. 

"Don't worry, Mandy.  It could be worse."

"HOW THE HELL COULD IT BE WORSE THAN IT ALREADY IS?"

"Um..." Sally-Anne struggled to think of something.  ""Do you remember the time those idiots-" She gestured wildly at the Weasley twins, "enchanted Dumbledore's sherbet lemons, and everyone who ate them started singing 'Fever of the Flava'?" 

Mandy's bad mood seemed to have evaporated as quickly as it had arrived.  "And half the Ravenclaw boys ended up with black eyes from their girlfriends, after singing it to other girls..." She giggled drunkenly.

"Do you think that I can get some... chickie chickie..." Sally-Anne sang loudly.  Fred, George and Lee exchanged looks, grinning.

  
"Maybe gets a little finger... sticky sticky..." Mandy all but yelled, giggles punctuating her words.

"I'm sure you could," Fred snickered loudly.

"Besides... the pants thing wasn't all bad," Sally-Anne continued.  "Snape never found out who it was, and you did earn one hundred points for Ravenclaw from McGonagall!"

"WHAT?!"  The expression on the trio's faces was priceless.

Sally-Anne smirked.

"She gave us a hundred points for services to the school."

"Bugger.  Our pranks really have to start to pick up!  We never got house points for practical jokes." Lee looked as though he wondered whether it was possible to earn points that way.

"Anyway, men.  We're in the Ravenclaw Common Room.  We have our equipment with us."

At this point in time, the pair of drunks began giggling louder, and Fred rephrased his sentence with a smirk.

"We have our **pranking** equipment** with us... what are we going to do?"**

"Let's split up."

"We can do more damage that way."

"I'll take the Canary Creams, and leave them on the boy's pillow cases... as a lovely little gift from the house-elves!"  Lee was sporting a thoroughly ecstatic beam.

"I think perhaps a fireworks display is in order... don't you, Fred?" George didn't even bother to look guilty.

"Not just any fireworks display..."

"Excuse us, ladies."  George, once again, had his 'charm attack' grin plastered all over his freckled face, and Sally-Anne once again decided to be sick.  But, again, it could've been the alcohol!

"Hang on," said she, when she was done, grabbing George's sleeve as he turned to face his companions in crime... that is, his friends.  "Have you seen Terry Boot anywhere?"

"He was hanging around outside, almost like he was afraid to come in."  George's fully-fledged grin morphed into a secretive smirk.  "Why?"

"She likes Boot's bootie."

"MANDY!"  Mandy ducked her hands and managed to avoid being killed at a young age.

Once.

Then Sally-Anne did it again.

"Sally-Anne, stop! Sal, I totally didn't mean it—oooooooooh."

Mandy's mind was slower than a snail.

And her face was purpler than a plum.

And her double vision had turned into triple vision.

"Please let go," She choked out.  Sally-Anne's hands were like a vice.  She squeezed a little harder, then released Mandy.

"I do not- I repeat- do not like that **DISGUSTING IDIOT of a teenage boy!  It's like he eats hormone tablets for breakfast, hormone tablets for lunch and hormone tablets for dinner just to keep his hormonal levels skyrocketing!"**

Fred smirked at Sally-Anne, amused.

"I'd say that any girl who knows the eating cycle of a guy _that well must have a crush on him."_

"Shut.  Up." She grated out, through gritted teeth.

George, standing next to Fred, smirked an alarmingly similar smirk, and Mandy wondered for a moment if her vision had increased to six times what it usually was.  Blinking hard, she looked back at Sally-Anne.

"Can someone say 'denial'?" 

And pandemonium broke out as Sally-Anne flung herself at Fred.

"Errrrrr... Draco?

"Yes, Crabbe?" _What _do you want now, you big idiot?__

"Why aren't we in the Common Room?"

"Because the Common Room's still being fixed after Snape blew it up."_ Dumbledore told us about twenty times, you bumbling oaf!_

"Oh."

A moment's silence, then...

"Errrrrr... Draco?

"Yes, Crabbe?" _What **now**?_

"Why did Snape blow up the Common Room?"

Draco smirked, remembering.

"Someone sent Snape a pair of leather pants.  Rather creative, if you ask me... _almost brilliant.  But the thing is, no one can figure out who did it.  It wouldn't have been a Slyth, though."_

As he received blank, stupid looks (almost identical, really) after this statement, he remembered to whom he was talking, and proceeded to explain in baby language. 

"Snape was mad, so he blew up the Common Room."

"Ohhhhhh..." Twin grunts, almost in perfect synchronisation.  _God, I can't wait till I leave Hogwarts!_

Draco thought back to the incident, which happened about a week ago.  A couple of hours after the Potions OWL Examination, to be precise.  A fluffy barn owl had flown through the Slytherin Common Room, which was odd enough in itself.  It made its path straight towards Professor Snape, who was holding a special dueling session for the Slytherin fifth years.  The owl dropped its package, which was messily wrapped in brown paper, at Snape's feet, and flew back out of the Common Room.  Snape, his dark eyebrows narrowed in suspicion, opened the parcel, and his face grew an unbecoming shade of green.  At that moment, a pair of leather pants rose from its wrappings, and a POOF of turquoise smoke later, Snape was standing in the centre of the Slytherin Common _wearing_ the tight trousers, which certainly left nothing to the imagination.

Draco was, once again, struck by the hilarity of the situation, and backed up against the statue of Boris the Bewildered.  Laughing a laugh totally free of its usual malice and sarcasm, Draco replayed the scene over and over again in his mind, until tears of mirth were running down his cheeks.

"Snape in leather pants... hahaha... Snape in leather pants!"

His delight, however, was cut short, as the statue behind him fell back a few feet and spun.  Landing gracelessly on his behind, Draco groaned.  

As Goyle helped him to his feet, Draco groaned again, rubbing his bottom with his hand.  Then he turned around, to face the room.

As soon as he realised what room it was, and what the password was, Draco smirked the trademark Malfoy smirk.  

The Slytherins that had been aware of the leather pants incident had all been sworn to secrecy using magic, so there was no way that they could have told any of the other houses.  Noting the blue colouring of the Common Room, and by the banners of eagles spread across the wall, Draco realised that it must've been a _Ravenclaw_ who sent the pants to Snape.

_Wow._

Just as the inhabitants of the room had realised he was there, Draco shot off in the direction of the dungeons.  To see Snape.

"Shit!"

"That was Blondie Malfoy!"

"How the hell did he get in here?!"

"Same as you three, I guess.  Chanced upon the password.  He would've been there when Snape received the pants."

As Mandy uttered these words, Sally-Anne's head jerked back, and her eyes grew wide.

"That means he knows! He knows that it was a Ravenclaw who sent Snape the pants... he's probably gone off to tell him now!

"**OH MY GOSH!**"

"Maybe we should get out of here, Fred."  Lee inched towards the entrance to the Common Room.

"Yep! I know where we should go!" Fred sounded far too gleeful at this point in their situation to be legal.  Maybe, thought Mandy, I should discuss this with Filch when I'm sober.  Discuss the rules concerning outward displays of happiness in the school...

And she fainted.

Fred, with his Beater reflexes in full swing, caught Mandy before she hit the floor, or rolled into the lit fire.  Dragging her back up on to the couch, he slung her so that her head was lying in Sally-Anne's lap, who had not reacted when Mandy fell.  Apparently, she was sharing the same alcohol-induced near-coma as Mandy.

"She's out cold," was Fred's prognosis, as he lifted her closed eyelid and gazed at her pupil for a second.  Shaking his head, he retracted his arm, and Mandy's head twisted around so that she was as comfortable as a totally smashed, unconscious drunk could be.

"Well, ladies, it's been great... but unfortunately, we must go." George's voice sounded out behind Fred, and he turned to face his twin with an eyebrow raised questioningly.  

"I believe you have a plan."

"Oh, certainly, and a _change_ of plan, as a matter of fact.  Forget the Canary Creams and the fireworks- they can wait for another time.  Whilst Snape comes running to the Ravenclaw Common Room, we can take the opportunity to... earn some points for Gryffindor for services to the school, let's say."

Lee and George smirked.

"We'll bring the Dung Bombs."

"And the owls from the Owlery, if you don't mind."

 When Mandy finally woke up, the embers in the Ravenclaw fireplace were dimming, and it was getting dark.  Her head was pounding, her throat was aching, and she dimly remembered consuming _far_ too much alcohol.  And plotting to kill Terry Boot.  And two red-headed boys with bowler hats...

How much alcohol had she** had**, exactly?

Groaning, and opening her eyes, she lifted her head slightly.  Blinking quickly, her eyes adjusted to the darkness of the room, and she focused.  Bearing over her was a large, black figure, very tall and thin.  As the last ember flickered light momentarily across the Common Room, before dying, she glimpsed a hooked nose, and dark eyes that were shining maliciously.

And then she _screamed._

Sally-Anne jerked forward, her eyes opening.  A vein in her temple was throbbing, and her hair was mussed.  She, too, blinked, and rubbed her eyes with the heel of her hand.  Then she saw what Mandy was screaming about, and...

Cuffed Mandy on the upside of her head...

"Honestly, Manda.  It's only Snape.  Put a sock in it!"

The blush on Mandy's cheeks was visible even in the half-light of the Common Room, but she did not sound embarrassed as she spoke.

"What the heck is the matter with you, Professor? You don't stand over a person like that!"

And, naturally, Mandy immediately regretted talking so loudly.  The words **echoed** in her ears, and, judging by the way Sally-Anne's face scrunched up, the words did the same in hers as well.

"Why I am standing over you, Miss Brocklehurst, is not the issue here."  Snape's voice was silky, and Mandy fought the urge to vomit.  Maybe it was the after-effects of the alcohol, though.

"The issue here, however, is the fact that one of you stupid Ravenclaw students did something which made me _very_ angry.  And I intend to not only find out _who is responsible for this, but to __punish them."_

Mandy's eyes widened in consternation.  Sally-Anne's, however, positively _sparkled with laughter._

"Aahahahaha! Stupid Ravenclaws! Hahahahahaha! An oxymoron! Very clever, Professor Snape!"

"Shut up, Sally!" Mandy's sharp hiss did nothing to silence her friend- indeed, Sally-Anne continued louder than before.

"Did you know that when you think about it, 'oxymoron' is nearly an oxymoron?  Because oxy means oxygen, and moron means a baby who doesn't receive enough oxygen at birth... ahahhahahaha!"

**"SILENCE, YOU STUPID GIRL!"**

And silence there was.  In plentitude.  After Snape _roared, the candles placed randomly about the Common Room went out, and a few window panes shattered.  But, all in all, there was silence._

Except for one thing.  It suddenly occurred to Mandy that if she hadn't been the one in this situation, she would have found it incredibly funny.  Hilarious, in fact.  And, as this thought seized her, so did an attack of laughter.

She laughed until tears streamed down her cheeks, and her stomach was sore.  She laughed until her throat, which was already sore from the over-consumption of Firewhisky, was red-raw and aching.  Basically, to put it in simple terms...

She laughed off her hangover.

Needless to say, Snape was _not_ impressed.

In fact, it would be quite safe to assume that he was _revolted_ by the display.

After he shook for a few moments, in which Sally-Anne giggled like a Hufflepuff and Mandy laughed like a full-bellied Irishman, Snape seemed to control himself enough for speech.

"Just.  Tell.  Me.  Who.  Did.  It."

Sally-Anne stopped giggling, and Mandy stopped laughing, and for a few moments, they stared at each other.  The visual contact was broken, however, as Sally-Anne raised her face towards Snape, and said in a clear voice,

"It was Terry Boot, sir."

And Snape was gone, in a flurry of black robes.

Snape, gleeful after his encounter with Mr. Boot, returned to his dungeons to find a...

Knitted dress and...

A red hand-bag...

Lying in his cauldron.

He found owl droppings all over his bedroom...

And when he entered his bathroom...

He was attacked by hundreds of owls.

His screams could be heard throughout the entire school.

Needless to say...

His face will never be the same again.

Pity.

Mandy decided that getting drunk was _not_ the answer to her problems.

She decided to take up Quidditch.

She also asked Fred Weasley out.

Terry Boot suffered fifty detentions with Filch for the leather pants incident.

His punishment concerning the incident with the dress and the owls is too severe to write.  

Snape automatically presumed he did it, you see.

Terry did find one thing good, though.  He asked Sally-Anne out...

And...

After punching him in the nose for 'keeping her waiting so long!'...

He finally got his reward...

A KISS, YOU DISGUSTING PEOPLE!

What happened in the lives of Draco, Crabbe and Goyle...

Are not of great enough concern...

To pen...

As they were only in the story...

Because the writer needed to develop the 'plot'...

Fred, Lee and George...

Pranked...

Happily ever after.


End file.
